Legend of Zelda: Pieces of the Legend
by Fractured Sanity
Summary: They said that the old stories were just legends. However, they forgot that all legends have some basis in truth. For one simple explorer the legends were never more real, nor the truth more mysterious.
1. Prologue

Zelda woke with a start.

It was that same dream again.

She sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. The very first rays of the morning sun seeped through the veiled curtains illuminating her royal bedroom. Outside, the early birds chirped gaily in the gardens as if welcoming another dawn. She got up and walked softly to the window and looked out over the town that grew and thrived in the shadow of the castle.

Daily life was just beginning to stir, as was evident by the thin wisps of smoke that began to curl lazily from the chimneys that lined the streets. In ones and two's, the citizens of Hyrule began to fill the streets. Before too long, the usual hubbub and busyness of typical life in the market square would rise to its usual level that rendered the identification of individual voices and sounds impossible.

For the sake of modesty, she closed the curtains and began to dress.

As she did so she wondered, not for the first time, what that dream was really about. She first had that dream…five years ago was it? Yes, that sounded about right. She would have been thirteen then. It cropped up once every couple of months up till now, and like many of her dreams it occurred more frequently as their inherent prophesies came closer to fruitation. Usually she could divine some meaning from her dreams thanks to the gift of her bloodline: the Triforce of wisdom, but this dream was different. It had no clear meaning, just a series of images subject to different interpretations of symbolism.

First there was a large boat…Ship she corrected herself. It was larger than anything in Hyrule, yet it bore the crest of the royal family on the most prominent of its many white sails. This was followed by a vision of a glowing golden triangle; a piece of the Triforce she assumed, but which one was unclear. The most ambiguous and perhaps the most frightening visions was of a battlefield. Arranged in fighting formation were three armies. One was the Hylian army that she knew would rally if the kingdom was in danger. The second army bore also bore the royal crest, but the soldiers bore strange spears and marched fearlessly despite not wearing a scrap of armor. The last was an army of twisted shapes that parodied the form of living creatures. Of all the omens, this one had the stench of Ganon about it.

Her power however, had granted her one piece of meaning, known without understanding. As if it were a clue written on the wall by some unknown author.

"Look to the sea."

She was sure it had something to do with the ship, but not how nor why.

"Look to the sea." she said to herself, "What could that mean?"


	2. Chapter 1

Rain poured over the Hyrule City metropolis. Water ran in torrents down the gutters of the empty streets, and the older buildings were starting to experience flooding damage. It was late afternoon, and the citizens of Hyrule City unanimously decided to call it an early night. Shops closed early, and everyone went home and dug out the dusty games from under their beds to pretend to amuse themselves until the real night fell.

There were those however, who decided not to brave the horrible weather and opted to stay at their workplace. One such a person was Miles Otten, though he would have stayed after hours even if it was a perfectly sunny day. He was the son of a minor aristocrat, and the sole contributor, curator, and proprietor of the Otten Cultural History Museum. Despite being the largest, that is to say, only such museum in the whole of Hyrule, it was largely unknown. It was based in one of the richer merchant districts near the castle, where it was sneered at by those who lived and worked nearby for its crude concrete architecture and stuffy contents. The people who weren't bothered by its appearance didn't often go to this pricy district, so customers were few and far between.

He was sitting in the back room this evening cleaning up his latest find: a Kokirian knife estimated to be 500 years old at least. By now you could see his reflection in the blade, though anyone who wanted to discern his features could have just looked at him instead of the reflection and not wasted time. He was mostly unremarkable, with light brown hair that was practically the norm and grey eyes that weren't unusual in any way. Since he was handling irreplaceable artifacts he made it a point to wear a smock, even a second hand one, over his street clothes.

The front door opened, ringing a little bell that announced the arrival of a visitor.

Miles paused in his work and thought, _"Who would be out in weather like this?"_

He wiped the polishing oil from his hands, stood, and went to the open doorway of the curating room where he could look past several rows of exhibits and display cases to the single entrance. Standing next to the front desk was a drenched figure in a grey cloak. The cloak was fastened to provide maximum protection against the elements and thus revealed only its wearer's two innocent blue eyes.

"May I help you?" he asked from across the room.

"Can I stay here until the storm passes?" asked the young lady who wore the cloak. There was some hesitation in her voice, and perhaps a touch of surprise, but even the short phrase was clear and melodic.

"Of course," he said in what he hoped was a welcoming tone. Even if both the weather and his financial situation were perfect he wouldn't have been so arrogant to deny someone entry. He almost considered asking her to pay admittance, but decided that he would waive the fee this time.

He ducked back inside the back room long enough to wrap the dagger in wax paper and pop it into a drawer. As an afterthought he also unfastened his smock and left it draped across the back of the chair. Then he crossed to the front desk which was positioned perpendicular to the entrance so that he could see most of what happened in the museum and hear most of what he couldn't. He took a seat and pulled out a ledger and fountain pen. Finishing this week's finances would give him something to do for a while; business had been slow so there was little enough to enter.

His visitor silently browsed the contents of some glass display cases and read the accompanying cards that told what they were. When she moved to another display, Miles noticed that she moved with such grace that she seemed to glide. Her footsteps were nearly inaudible. There was no scrape or scuff of shoe against carpet, just the sound of the pressure of her shoes to the ground.

For a while the scratching of a pen on parchment sounded like an alarm in the silence as sums and differences were totaled in the name of commerce. Every now and again he would glance up at his visitor before steeling himself to the next column. This cycle went on for some time until he finally confronted the net profit at the bottom of the page.

He was, as a general rule, not a greedy man. Nevertheless, he would have been a great deal more satisfied if the total did not have a small horizontal line in front of it.

He released a great sigh and leaned back in his chair. There were times when he wondered why he even bothered opening the place. Now was such a time. He had a grand total of six customers in the past month, and one of them walked away with an artifact that could only be described as priceless.

He noticed that the visitor was looking at him quizzically. He sat up then sighed again, inward this time.

"Would you like some drinking chocolate?" he asked, "Or some tea perhaps?"

"No thank you," she told him after a moment's hesitation, "I'm not very thirsty."

"Fine, fine. Just thought I'd ask."

Silence reigned supreme for a time, rivaled only by the dampening roar of the rain against the roof. After a while the visitor spoke.

"Where did you find all these things?"

"Hmm?" he replied. He was busy studying what features of hers he could see.

"All this." She made an encompassing gesture with one hand, revealing a white silk glove that covered a hand as slender and graceful as her movements. She indicated various exhibits as she continued. "You claim to have found shards of the mirror of twilight, the hilt of the white sword, Zora scales, and so on. All parts of the old legends."

"Well, all legends have at least some basis in fact," He said as he rested his arms on the desk. "When I was younger, I believed all the old legends. Even the one where the moon almost fell from the sky. As I grew older, I started looking around for clues, parts of the old stories. One day, by sheer stroke of luck," he grinned inwardly at the memory, "I found the Hero of Time's hat."

The visitor's eyes widened with astonishment. "Really? Where is it?"

Miles hung his head slightly and shook it sadly. "It's…gone. Shortly after I opened this place I nearly went bankrupt. An old collector offered to by it from me in exchange for footing that month's bill, which mind you was not an insignificant amount. Since then it's been the only way I've stayed in business."

"You have to sell these artifacts or go bankrupt?" she asked clearly shocked.

"Yeah. I'm afraid that's the way it is."

She looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, then ducked behind one of the display cases. He heard the click as the switches turned and the squeak as the cabinet door opened. She returned a moment later holding something small and silver in her gloved hands.

"May I buy this?" she asked.

It was a bracelet made from a silver chain and three pendants made from what he suspected was platinum. Each pendant housed a gemstone: one ruby, one sapphire, one emerald. It was about 400 years old, and made with a craftsmanship that rivaled that of modern master-silversmiths.

"Does 200 rupees sound fair?" he asked offering her a cut-rate deal of two weeks of an average Hylian salary.

Wordlessly she reached into the recesses of her cloak and produced a single silver rupee the size of her palm. She held it out to him, and when he recovered from the surprise he accepted it. When he held it in his hands he couldn't help but stare at it. Only the filthy rich ever carried the rare silver rupee with them. Commoners were usually paid in reds, purples if they had a good job. He stared at her, partly in shock, partly in wonder.

"I should get going," she said as she started edging towards the door, "They'll start to worry about me soon."

"Can I see you again?"

It took Miles a moment to comprehend what his mouth just said.

The girl merely asked, "Are you going to the royal ball tomorrow night?"

"Uh, yes. Yes I am."

"I'll definitely see you then. Goodbye." Without another word she swung open the door and stepped out into the rain, leaving Miles alone with the bell on the door as it rang itself to sleep.

After a moment of silence, Miles reminded himself to breathe.


	3. Chapter 2

"Princess Zelda, I offer you this small token as a measure of my…um…Your highness, allow me to present this gift in hopes of…damn. What's supposed to come next?"

Miles paced back and forth in his carpeted room rehearsing for that night. It was midday, but at the rate he was going the precious hours between now and then weren't going to be long enough. Tonight was an especially special night, and not just because a royal ball was being held. The ball was being held in the honor of the Princess Zelda's eighteenth birthday. Being the sole heir of Hyrule, and now of marrying age, it wasn't difficult to see the ulterior motive of the festivities. If the rumors on the grapevine were true, then the palace was going to be swarming with potential suitors from as far afield as Labrynna and Gamelon. Not to say that there wasn't going to be an impressive showing of Hyrulean candidates, aristocratic and otherwise.

He tried again, dimly aware of a knocking at the front door downstairs which was promptly answered by the family servant.

"Your Maje--no. Your Highness, it is my great pleasure to present you with this rare treasure: an item kept by the royal family for centuries, ever since the early to mid ages of the Harkinian dynasty." he paused as he considered this phrase, then shook his head and berated himself. "Still need to cut back on the history."

He mused over the best way to deliver his spiel when he heard steps on the stairs leading up to his room. The door opened just far enough for a curious head to poke through.

"Miles, do you have a moment?"

It was his mother. She had the face of a worried parent that had nevertheless lead a good life and was starting to relent to the siege of age. He also noticed, without much surprise, that she was wearing the same kind of dress that despite the attempts of many, had utterly refused to go out of style.

"Yes mother," he said, "What is it?"

"This letter came for you," she held the brown note out to him as proof.

"A letter?"

This was a surprise. He didn't often get mail. Aside from bills anyway, but those didn't count. In any case, it was awfully late for mail to be delivered. He undid the string knot and unfolded the note contained therein. Inside was a single line of text in neat script.

_Meet me by the statue in the castle courtyard at your earliest convenience._

And that was it. No signature, no return address, nothing. Not even on the back.

"Very strange," he remarked, "Did you see who delivered this?"

"He looked like a courier from the castle. Why? What does it say?"

He handed her the note, which she carefully examined.

"This is very suspicious," she remarked, "But if it's not a prank, it wouldn't do to keep someone from the castle waiting. You know how much is at stake."

'A chance for you to have grandchildren with royal blood and maybe pull some strings on a future king,' is what he very carefully did not say. Instead he answered, "A chance to bring the house Otten back to its former glory, yes I know."

He retrieved his dueling sword from its rack and fastened it to his belt. Wearing a sword had been popular in fashion for quite some time, but fashion had since shifted to smaller, more elegant weapons. This sword however, was a rapier destined for combat; forged during a time when the primary role of a sword was still "Do something unpleasant to the guy opposing me." Wearing a weapon like this, with it's long, sharp blade and complex basket hilt, was a sure indicator that the wearer preferred practicality over decoration.

"I'm going to go check it out," he announced, "This shouldn't take more than an hour or so, hoax or no."

"Be careful out there Miles," she told him she walked him to the front door, "We don't want anything to happen to you."

----------

The midday streets of Hyrule City were as crowded as usual. Men in expensive suits and ladies with parasols roamed the streets in groups of two or three, each on their own agenda. Every now and then a patrol of soldiers would march by with their well oiled muskets and bayonets gleaming in the sun, which contrasted nicely against their deep blue coats.

It was a short walk to the castle grounds. The Otten Manor was situated quite close to the even more crowded central market district, and from there it was a straight run to the castle. The four guards at the main gate took little notice of him, save for a cordial nod as he passed. So long as you behaved yourself and didn't trample the flowers, the castle courtyard was considered public ground until sundown.

The courtyard itself was a scene of restrained chaos.

Everywhere you looked servants were putting up bunting and streamers while porters carried boxes of decorations and other assorted party accessories to their various destinations. Today's handful of visitors were mostly watching the scene, though a few that tried to gain entrance to the castle while the guards explained that access was off-limits to civilians for the time being. No-one paid him any attention, they were all too busy in their own affairs.

Now then, which statue?

There were several statues in the courtyard. Every now and then the royal families decided to patronize the local talent and commission a statue of one of the monarchs or pay homage to their roots. After many years, the courtyard now held dozens of statues; each a wonder, if only because the soft marble had withstood the ages so well.

Of course, there was always the homage to the Legend.

Sequestered behind a rose hedge, where there was still space to build, a group of sculptors decided to immortalize the Legend of Zelda by recreating the timeless scene where the Hero of Time rescued the princess and had a final duel with Ganondorf.

Miles was rather annoyed that he had not been consulted.

He walked up to the great monument and admired it once more. He was there at its unveiling three years ago and he was just as impressed then. The master craftsmen did a marvelous recreation. Ganondorf was suitably fearsome with features that suggested his inhumanness, The Hero of Time looked appropriately courageous while he held the master sword at the ready, and Zelda had a look of knowing calm while she nocked and arrow of light into place.

A soft voice behind him said, "Hello there. Good of you to come."

Miles turned around, then stood as straight and stiff as a board. There, not ten feet away, was the princess of Hyrule herself! The beautiful and incredibly important princess Zelda Dadiel Hyrule!

"Y-your Highness!" he stammered, "This is a great honor." he bowed deeply at the waist in reverence.

She said nothing, but extended a limp hand. He recognized this as a signal to kiss her hand, which he started to do. He took her hand in his, leaned down--

--and stopped. Dangling from her silk-gloved wrist was a silver chain. Hanging from the chain were three platinum pendants, and each pendant held a gemstone: one ruby, one sapphire, one emerald.

He looked up to her face, and the memory of his visitor's voice, eyes, and purchase all crashed together into one great realization.

She gave him a small smile; a reward for having figured it out.

She took her hand from his unresisting ones and turned toward the monument.

"It's a wonderful piece don't you think?" she asked.

"Y-yes," he replied once he found his voice again, "The craftsmanship is most lifelike."

She gave him a sidelong glance. "Come now, surely that's not your only comment?"

"_Oh, so this is a test,"_ he thought, _"In that case…"_

"There are some details that are…wrong," he admitted, "First off, the full-armguard that Ganon is wearing. Yes it comes from Gerudo, but he only wore it in The Sage of Darkness, which is not a recognized part of the mythos. Second, the master sword: there isn't supposed to be a fuller. Twilight Princess and Wind Waker were very specific about that. Last, Majora's mask is attached to his belt. That's just plain wrong."

She nodded approvingly. "You have an eye for detail. Good, it will be useful."

"Useful for what? Your highness, why was I called here?"

She looked around, presumably for eavesdroppers. She needn't have worried however, as the nearest people were rather more concerned with a servant who had been left dangling after the ladder collapsed.

"Walk with me." she told him, and he obeyed. She led him to a sturdy iron gate which she unlocked with her key and ushered him into the royal rose garden, a place normally off-limits to normal civilians.

They walked down the rows of concealing rose bushes in silence as the almost imperceptible perfume of the surrounding blooms wafted over them. As the silence went on, Miles became incrementally more nervous as the questions piled up. _'What does she want from me?' _was the first concern, but jockeying for position were also, _'What kind of trouble am I about to get into?'_, and _'She didn't come to my museum by chance did she?'_

"I have a question for you Miles." she said with a suddenness that caught him off guard.

"Y-yes?" he stammered as he thought _'She knows my first name!'_

"You know the most about the history of Hyrule," she said, "and I have learned that you have traveled extensively throughout the land your archeological expeditions. In a way, you have gotten to know the soul of Hyrule, the Hyrule stripped bare of industry and political machinations."

"…If you say so."

"So I ask you, if you had the opportunity to rule Hyrule, to make history instead of study it, how would you rule the kingdom?"

He blinked. "I'm not sure. I don't really have any political aspirations." Then his eyes widened, "Are you asking me--"

"You are not the only one, though your insight does you credit," she said cutting him off. "Naturally, there are many factors to consider, what the impact of such a marriage have in the near future, what our nation will need in thirty or so years, how the political atmosphere will change between now and then, it's not a decision to take lightly. There is however, a small list of people who would have a positive outcome on the kingdom; and yes, you are one of the fortunate few."

"How long have I been on this list?" he asked suspiciously.

"The better part of two years. Ever since you wrote that rather thought provoking essay on the existence and extinction of the magic races."

"But I never even got that published! How did you learn of it?"

"You gave a copy to Professor Aecher for his opinion. At the time, he was tutoring me in the history of Hyrule. He spoke often of you."

Ah yes, Professor Aecher. Miles knew that without the professor's collecting habit, the museum would have gone under a long time ago. He taught history at the prestigious University of Hyrule and first got the younger Miles interested in going out into the world and finding parts of the past instead of just reading about it. Since then, their relationship of find and buy had proven mutually beneficial.

"So who else is on this list?" he asked.

"One of them is Kafei the younger. The son of the patrician of Termina. He has done much to reform tax laws and expand education. Such a marriage would strengthen our relations, and his policies would strengthen the kingdom."

Miles said nothing, somewhat resentfully, in response.

"Then there is Prince Ralph of Labrynna. He is royalty, so a marriage between us would be easily accepted. He may be a bit…impulsive, but he has noble intentions and will be easily steered in the right direction."

"Making the whole marriage business little more than a formality," commented Miles

"But an important one none-the-less. From Hyrule proper, the last one aside from yourself is Gan Dragmire--"

"What?!" exclaimed Miles, "What would possess you to even consider him? He's an utter pri-… a bast…" he hesitated, trying to think of a word that both accurately described the man and could be said in polite company.

"A libertine?" she suggested.

"…Sure."

"I chose him because of our recent war with the gerudo," she explained.

"But we won," he pointed out, "What would be the point of marrying a half-gerudo?"

"In a few years all of the P.O.W's will be released. By the time Gan and I take the throne, their children will be old enough to take up arms and bring us both into another bloody and unnecessary war. Marriage with a gerudo will grate with some of Hyrule's citizens, but it will raise sympathy with the gerudo. Their malcontents still who insist on fighting us will then have a much harder time raising support to overthrow a King who shares a common ancestry."

"I see," he said quietly. Then a thought occurred to him, "Do they know I'm on this list of yours? More importantly, are they all coming to the ball tonight? Answer the second question first."

"They will all be attending this evening," she said calmly, "You are the last to be informed of the situation."

There was a brief silence as the implications set in. The three most likely candidates, one of whom Miles was none too fond of, were all going to be coming to the same high profile event armed with the knowledge of what their competition would be like.

"Why are you telling us this?" he asked. It didn't make any sense to him. Why wouldn't she just choose one and have done?

The clock tower began striking noon. The round tolls of the large brass bell sounded through the air, marking the passage of time.

"You should probably return home," she said as she started to turn away, "You only have a few hours left to prepare."

She started walking away but added over her shoulder, "As for my reasons, I'm sure they will become apparent if you stay observant."

Miles doubted this, but said nothing as he watched the Princess go. Then he too went home, feeling a great deal more troubled than when he left.


End file.
